


Searching For Answers

by Varkelton



Series: Consent [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Multi, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-12
Updated: 2009-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-19 21:48:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Varkelton/pseuds/Varkelton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean brings home a prostitute to help Sam with the curse, but mostly, Sam just wants his brother. A prequel for <a href="http://varkelton.livejournal.com/11848.html">An Issue of Consent</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Searching For Answers

**Author's Note:**

> **Pairings** : Sam/OFC/Dean  
>  **Rating** : NC-17  
>  **Warnings** : Threesome involving het, but it’s really all about Sam/Dean, dub-con, PWP, prostitution.  
>  **Word count** : 5,400+  
>  **Disclaimer** : Do you suppose if I asked sweetly, the boys would give themselves to me? Yeah, not after they read my stories. Labor of love. No profit.  
>  **Dedication** : For my awesome friends, [](http://denyce.livejournal.com/profile)[**denyce**](http://denyce.livejournal.com/) and [](http://nighean-isis.livejournal.com/profile)[**nighean_isis**](http://nighean-isis.livejournal.com/) , who totally enabled me to write teh hawt sex. Beta’d by [](http://nighean-isis.livejournal.com/profile)[**nighean_isis**](http://nighean-isis.livejournal.com/) and [](http://amara-m.livejournal.com/profile)[**amara_m**](http://amara-m.livejournal.com/). My stories are much better because of my friends. Thank you, darlings!
> 
>  **Author’s Note** : This takes place about a month and a half after [Torn Apart](http://varkelton.livejournal.com/12750.html) and about four months before the beginning of [An Issue of Consent](http://varkelton.livejournal.com/11848.html). However, it’s intended to be read in the order published – it will probably make a little more sense if you read the main story first.

Sam lay shivering under the covers. His dick was aching again, and he almost grabbed it before he managed to stop short. He let out a frustrated moan and rolled over, tangling his hands in the blankets, trying to distract himself with the harsh rub of cheap fabric against his skin. His dick was painfully hard, but at this point, touching the raw skin was worse and he knew, intellectually at least, that it wouldn’t even help. He burrowed a little bit deeper into the blankets. It was so damn cold.

The sick grip of nausea twisted in his gut, and he sucked in some shallow breaths to try to keep it down. Another tremor struck, jerking his body around helplessly for a couple of minutes before subsiding, and he groaned his wretchedness into the pillow. He wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be able to take this; it had been going on since just after Dean had deemed him healthy enough to leave the hospital and that’d been… a while. Weeks, probably. Time had been fuzzy lately. He wasn’t sure.

 _Where the hell was Dean?_ It seemed like it’d been a long time since he’d left to get help. As if more sex would help. It’d lasted a day at most, that first time, and then it’d gotten less and less effective. Waste of time at this point; he just needed Dean to come back. He moved a knee up, and the small movement sent fireworks lancing through his groin. He inhaled sharply and bit the inside of his lip hard enough to draw blood, letting the sharp flair of pain provide a momentary distraction from the bigger problem.

He grabbed the second pillow, wrapping his arms around it tightly and wishing it was Dean, which caused his face to flush with embarrassment. God, he’d been such a girl lately, waking up in the middle of the night to find himself wrapped around his brother, _cuddling_ with him. He couldn’t even remember making the decision to move out of his own bed... and even then, he’d been sporting wood, his hard dick pressed into his brother’s thigh. Thank god Dean had yet to wake up for that. That just wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have.

His hand slipped down again, brushing the top of his sweats, lingering for only a moment before dipping underneath the waist-band to brush lightly against the wet tip of his dick. It felt good, seductive, but the skin was hot and fiery from constant stimulation, promising pain, and he forced himself to stop. A low whine issued from the back of his throat, helpless sounding, and he didn’t like it. He forced his hand out of his pants and slammed his fist against the bed as he yelled his frustration into the pillow.

The room felt muggy and claustrophobic and he realized his body was doing another 180 on him. He could feel the sweat beading on his forehead and he threw the covers off. He was tired of the god damn bed anyway. He got out of it with a sigh and staggered over to the bathroom sink to splash cold water on his face. It didn’t help, but then, nothing really did. His stomach clenched and a slow burn started working its way up the back of his throat, and he sank down to the floor to gaze at the far too familiar toilet bowl, gasping with the effort not to throw up again. He had nothing in his stomach, hadn’t been able to keep anything down in three days, and Dean was getting desperate.

He needed Dean here, that much he knew, and he’d fucking pleaded with his brother not to leave. The prostitutes didn’t really help, but he hadn’t been able to say the _why_ out loud, and Dean had finally left, convinced that they were better than nothing.

The shaking was coming back and he sagged down to the floor, curling around himself protectively. He wished he could just fall asleep, but that simple relief was beyond his grasp right now.

It’s not like Dean had been getting that much sleep lately either; his brother’d lost weight and lack of sleep had gouged dark circles under his eyes, and Sam felt a flash of guilt for causing that. He knew he wasn’t making any of this easier on Dean, with his inexplicable panic attacks every time Dean needed to leave the room, and he was lousy at hiding them. At this point, Dean was so busy worrying about Sam that he wasn’t taking care of himself.

At least Sam had been able to argue Dean into the shower this morning. Dean had looked at least a little less weary when he’d come out, still dripping water everywhere, too impatient to stay in the bathroom long enough to dry off. The towel had been wrapped so hurriedly around his waist that it threatened to gape, and the water’d trailed down his face and body in little streams, slipping across his lips to disappear into his mouth.

Sam had a sudden image of licking the water from Dean’s lips, chasing the water into Dean’s mouth until their tongues collided while his hands wandered down the expanse of Dean’s chest, ever lower, and… _what the fuck was wrong with him?_

Anger surged and he slammed a hand against his head. Perverted sexual fantasies about his brother had been haunting him for days now, but he wasn’t about to admit that to Dean. This would all be fixed soon, anyway. Bobby was working on it.

 _What the hell was taking Dean so long?_

Another prostitute he didn’t want fetched for him by his big brother. This was just… _wrong_ on so many levels. The thought of having sex with some woman he didn’t even know hadn’t been very appealing the first time, although Dean had looked at him a little oddly when he’d paled, but hey, even Dean didn’t usually stoop to paying for it.

Jess would have killed him for this. His gut clenched with the familiar ache. _If she was still here…_

An image of Dean stepping out of the bathroom flashed through his mind once more, only this time, Dean was missing the towel. His dick jumped, pulsing more pre-come at the thought. Sam ground his hands into his eyes and moaned, flushing with embarrassment. Still, he needed his brother to come back now. “Screw the prostitute, Dean, don’t need her,” he whispered against the tiles where no one could hear.

He jumped when the door banged open and managed to bash his head against the wall, adding to his misery.

“Sammy?” Dean shouted. His brother appeared above him, crouching down to grip his arms, and he felt a little of the sickness slip away. “Okay, let’s get you off the floor, this is not a normal place to take a nap, dude,” Dean muttered as he helped Sam stand. Sam forced a small smile and then wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist before he could stop himself. He felt his brother stiffen a little, a brief moment of awkwardness before Dean let himself return the gesture, and way too soon Dean was urging, “Come on, she’s waiting for you.”

Sam rested his forehead against Dean’s shoulder. “No.” God, he sounded like a two year old.

“Sam,” Dean snorted uneasily. “Dude, get a grip. You need this, at least until Bobby finds us some answers.”

Sam shook his head without looking up. “She won’t… I…” He took in a shuddering breath. There was no way he could ask for what he wanted; he couldn’t even make himself form the thought in his head.

“I’m not going anywhere. I… I’ll stay, just like… I promise. I stayed before, dude, just… go.” Dean pushed Sam back a little, breaking their hold on each other, and it wasn’t really rejection, but Sam felt the sting of betrayal anyway.

He shoved Dean back hard enough that Dean stumbled back and landed on the toilet. He looked up, surprise coloring his features, and Sam had the sudden urge to lean down and kiss him. He strangled the moan that fought to claw its way out of his chest and instead he turned around to stride angrily back into the room.

The girl was leaning against the closed door with a skirt so short you could practically see her crotch and she had one foot raised and pressed back against the wood in a seductive stance. She looked like every other prostitute Dean’d brought back, Sam thought dismissively.

Her face curved into an appreciative smile when she saw him stalking toward her though. “Oh, baby,” was all she had time to whisper before Sam was on her, gripping her face between his hands and pulling her into a rough kiss. Adrenaline surged at the contact and he readjusted his grip, tangling his hands in her hair so he could pull her in tighter, and he pushed his tongue roughly into her mouth, claiming it, even though it wasn’t really her he was thinking of. He let the kiss draw out, and, after a moment of floundering indecision as she slipped her hands around his body, she gave in, surging against him, giving as good as she got, letting her nails scrape against his back hard enough to leave little trails of fiery hot pleasure/pain down his back.

Fury swelled and he pushed her back against the door, his thumbs grinding her hair against her temples as he stared into her eyes. This isn’t what he wanted. Sam shoved her to the side and turned, somehow knowing that Dean had entered the room. “Sweet Jesus,” the girl muttered behind him, but Sam’s focus was already fixed on Dean, who was sitting uncomfortably on the farther bed, his arms wrapped around himself as if to shield himself from what was going on. Sam reached back and grabbed the girl’s arm, dragging her forward until they were standing in front of Dean.

He shoved her and she stumbled into his brother. Dean managed to catch her and looked at Sam, confusion shining from his eyes. It was a pretty common sight lately. “What the fuck, Sam?”

“You want her so much, you fuck her,” Sam replied.

“I… Sam…” Dean sputtered. “That’s not the point.”

The girl raised a hand and stroked Dean’s face, pressing a kiss against Dean’s stubbled chin. She reached a hand back and hooked a finger in Sam’s waist-band. “I’ll happily do either one of you, but it’s more for two,” she said, her eyes hard and glittering.

“You heard her, Dean,” Sam ground out angrily. “We do her both at the same time, or we send her the fuck out of here.”

Dean looked completely flummoxed. “Sam?” he said, standing up, the girl managing to cling to him, following him up off the bed.

She pressed a hand against Dean’s dick, squeezing through the cloth, and Sam barely managed to swallow his moan. “Sounds like a good compromise to me, gorgeous,” she purred.

Sam took a step forward and pressed a wet kiss against the skin of the girl’s neck, and then looked at Dean. “I’ll do it, Dean, I’ll do what you want but…” He shook his head. “You in?” he demanded.

Dean stared at him, struggling for a moment to find his voice before he yelped, “No!” He threw himself backwards, scrambling over the other side of the bed and positioned himself with the bed between them like a shield.

Sam felt the denial like a blow to the stomach and he stumbled backwards, landing against the dresser, nausea and fatigue welling back up. He raised a shaking hand and wiped it against his mouth. Shit, it wasn’t going to stay down this time. He managed a couple of steps toward the bathroom and stumbled down to his knees, retching onto the linoleum.

“Oh my God,” the girl said disgustedly, “I’m out of here.”

“No,” he heard Dean plead over noise of his rebelling stomach. “Please. I’ll make it worth your while… Scarlet. Look. There’s more where that came from. Just wait here, okay? Please...”

He felt Dean’s hands sooth over his back, and God, it felt so damn good. His stomach calmed. “Come on, Sam, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out, okay? Just… here, lemme help you get cleaned up, okay?”

Dean’s face was close to his, and Sam turned, hovering closer, his mouth over Dean’s. He sucked in their mingled breaths hungrily. “Please, Dean,” he begged, “I need… I need…” He closed his eyes. He still couldn’t say it. Not _that_. “I need… more. I told you, she’s not going to be enough.”

“Okay, okay,” Dean said and pulled Sam up and into the bathroom. Dean fumbled for a glass of water and pressed it against Sam’s lips. He drank greedily, leaning his weight against the reassuring strength of his brother’s chest… and, that felt _good_. He let himself sag against Dean, suddenly enough to throw Dean off balance, and Dean went down, landing somewhat heavily on the toilet seat. He still kept his grip on Sam, his arms wrapped protectively around his brother, and Sam managed to land in Dean’s lap. He collapsed against him, and he _did_ feel weak… it wasn’t that much of a stretch.

He pressed into Dean’s embrace and made a small, wounded sound, and Dean held him tighter. “Jesus, Sam,” Dean muttered, clutching him bleakly. This time, Dean allowed them to sit together for a few minutes before he shook himself and grabbed a washcloth, wetting it before running the warm cloth over Sam’s face and torso. When he was done he handed Sam a bottle of mouthwash and ordered him to rinse his mouth, and then threw a towel on the floor to soak up the mess. Sam sagged back against Dean when he was done, and Dean let him, holding him quietly for a while, rocking him gently.

The pressure was building again, a pulsing need that was getting harder and harder to ignore. The scent of Dean pressed so close was heady, and Sam inhaled deeply, letting it steady him. _God, this felt so right._

He let his hand trace up Dean’s muscled chest as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss against Dean’s neck, and Dean leaped up so fast he nearly overbalanced Sam.

“Okay,” his brother squeaked, his breaths coming out fast and panicked. “We, um…” He pushed Sam to the door, jerking his hands immediately away, like Sam was burning him, and it was a good thing Sam was steadier now than he had been, or he might not have been able to walk back into the room.

The girl was sitting stiffly on the other bed, anger clear in her features. Sam moved to her and pulled her up.

“We gonna finally do this thing?” she asked.

Sam ignored her. Dean was standing next to the bathroom door, rocking back and forth anxiously from one foot to the other, and he turned her so that she was between them, facing his brother. “Kiss her,” Sam ordered, and pushed her forward.

The girl gave an indignant squeak as she landed against Dean, but Dean held her away, looking at Sam instead. Their eyes met, and Dean opened his mouth to protest… but then he closed it abruptly, making a decision. He gave a sharp nod, and, despite the fact that his face was turning a rather striking scarlet, he leaned down and pressed his lips against the girl’s. The kiss was slow and messy and sent a sharp jolt of desire straight through Sam’s dick as he watched hungrily.

He couldn’t help it, let out a deep moan, and Dean immediately tensed, pulling back. Sam’s breath caught, but fortunately the girl didn’t let Dean go, wrapping her hands around his neck and pulling him back. Dean’s head was down and Sam stepped to the side slightly to get a better view; she was thrusting her tongue into Dean’s generous mouth, licking the soft skin of his lips hungrily, leaving behind wet, slick trails before diving back in.

Sam growled low in his throat, and he turned his head away. That was where _he_ should be. Dean was **_his_** , but there was just enough of Sam still present to know that if he gave in and pushed her away, Dean would fucking run. He couldn’t not look though, and he turned back, even though the passionate kiss seemed to go on forever, causing fiery vitriol to burn a hole in his stomach.

They broke apart eventually, pausing for air, and somehow, that wasn’t okay either. Sam grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up, and she complied, wrapping her legs around his brother and pulling his head down against her breasts. Dean groaned into them, nuzzling in while he fumbled for the catch of her skimpy shirt.

When her breasts bounced free, Dean began licking over the soft skin. Sam reached out, gripping her shoulder, and she arched back, exposing herself more fully to Dean’s eager explorations. She tightened her legs around his brother and reached back for Sam, pulling him in close. Their lips hovered together, and Sam reached out a tentative tongue to run over her spit slicked lips. The taste of Dean was heavy on them, intoxicating, and he collapsed against her with a moan, licking over them, demanding entry, the need to suck away every trace of Dean making him ache.

Sam could feel the soft brush of Dean’s hair against his cheek, and he shifted his stance, moving closer until they were almost touching. So close. Dean hoisted her up a little higher, allowing her to arch back a bit more, and she sighed appreciatively as his kiss deepened into a playful battle for dominance.

She pushed Sam away from her mouth and smiled mischievously at him before dropping her legs abruptly to the floor. Dean growled in frustration as her momentum pulled her from his grip, and Sam was consumed with the sudden image of slamming Dean against the wall and claiming Dean’s mouth with his own. Dean’s face was flushed with heat, and his gaze skittered away from Sam when he tried to meet his eyes.

The girl stepped more firmly between them, tossing a casual, “Why don’t you get rid of those clothes, baby?” over her shoulder before turning her full attention back to Dean. She raised a hand up, making sure Dean’s focus was on it before dropping it down to slowly undo the buttons of his shirt. She pressed a kiss to the skin of his chest above the cloth as she undid each button, and Sam felt himself get just a little bit harder with each bit of progress.

He shed his clothes as he watched the slow reveal, until he was nude behind her, and she pulled Dean’s shirt free, tossing it to the side. She pushed her ass back against Sam’s dick as she dropped her head down to one of Dean’s nipples, sucking it in with porn star enthusiasm. Dean leaned back against the wall, his head hitting with a dull thump as he exhaled loudly, and Sam dropped his hands down to her back, stroking up the soft skin, imagining Dean’s hard planes.

She reached behind her and grabbed Sam’s hands, bringing them around to cup her breasts, and it wasn’t really what Sam wanted, but then she straightened, lining her body up against Dean’s, so that Sam’s hands were trapped between them, and he almost sobbed with the relief of finally making skin contact with Dean.

Dean didn’t seem to notice, lost in the sensation of the girl writhing against him, and Sam pushed in against them harder, fitting their bodies tightly together against the wall. She pushed back, widening the gap a little, and Sam clutched her breasts tighter in frustration, making her gasp. She dropped her lips back down to Dean’s chest, biting and sucking at Dean’s nipples, making him close his eyes and groan, lost in the sensation, and then Sam felt her take his hands in hers, made him release his grip on her breasts when she pushed them down, letting them rest against her stomach and the top of Dean’s jeans with a barely audible chuckle. She let them go and stood once more to run her tongue greedily over Dean’s mouth before breathing out against them, “Keep your eyes shut.” She grabbed Dean’s hands and pressed them against the wall, over his head. “And leave them there,” she ordered. “Just enjoy the ride...”

Dean groaned again, relaxing back against the wall, leaving his hands in place as commanded, and she moved her attention back to Dean’s chest and stomach. Sam’s arms were wrapped around her, and she had her’s off to either side, out of the way, giving him the control. His breaths were coming out hard and fast, and he felt more than a little light headed as he popped the first button of Dean’s fly, and then another, until the jeans were sliding down Dean’s legs, and he pressed a grateful kiss against the girl’s back. She slipped down Dean’s body, and Sam caught a glimpse of Dean’s dick, already hard and poking through the slit of his boxers, pre-come beading strongly at the tip, before she was grabbing the worn cloth and sliding them down Dean’s body as well. Leaving Dean free.

Sam was shaking with need, but he was afraid to touch, afraid of reminding Dean of his presence. The girl grabbed his hands and forced her small ones into his grip, adjusting until he gripped the back of them before sinking her fingers into the curls of hair at Dean’s groin so that the hair tickled against the edges of Sam’s hands. She caught his eyes, held them before looking pointedly at Dean’s stomach and crouching down, leaving her hands in place as she stared at the floor, breathing heavily… waiting. Sam looked at Dean hungrily, and he sucked back a quiet sob before leaning down and running the tip of his tongue over the firm skin of Dean’s abs, letting it trace through the trail of hair before pushing back up into Dean’s belly button, careful to keep his touch light, and avoid the telltale brush of stubbled skin against Dean’s smooth stomach.

The girl’s hands were moving, teasing over Dean’s balls, and Sam dropped his focus lower, to the tempting wave of Dean’s dick just below his chin, which was making him feel a little bit crazed. Terrified that a wrong move might give him away, he sank down to his knees tentatively, until his tongue just touched that tempting bead of moisture. The flavor exploded over his tongue, leaving him breathless, and he licked over the head, making Dean moan and shift under his mouth. He was still following orders, keeping his eyes shut, keeping his hands high, and Sam grew a little bolder, sliding down the thick length carefully, licking and tasting and making Dean writhe.

Sam lost himself in the sensation, sliding wetly up and down Dean’s shaft, and Dean’s breaths were speeding up, getting more desperate. “’M getting close,” Dean said quietly, his voice almost pained, and just like that the girl was pushing Sam off, pushing him away from Dean. Sam tensed, fighting an almost irresistible urge to lash out at her, and he only barely managed to keep himself under control. He crouched back, balling his hands into fists at his sides, his hungry gaze still fixed on Dean.

She pressed a sympathetic finger against Sam’s lips, caressed it lightly over his tingling skin, her eyes filled with mischief and seduction. She brushed her own lips against his, letting them linger almost chastely, and he heard his brother shift restlessly against the wall, a small, frustrated, “God,” whimpered out, and she smiled against Sam and stood up, coming between them once more. She pressed a kiss against the side of Dean’s mouth, “Not yet, baby,” she said softly, taking one of Dean’s hands and pulling him toward the bed.

The pool of cloth around Dean’s feet made him stumble and his eyes jerked open with a muttered, “Shit.” Sam smirked as Dean shuffled awkwardly toward the bed; his brother was such a dork sometimes. Dean’s gaze went to Sam and then once again skittered almost immediately away, embarrassment clear in every line of his body. She lay down on her side, stretching out cat-like, and patted the old comforter seductively. “Come here, baby. Lie down on your back,” she purred.

Dean looked… scared, but his dick was clearly calling the shots, and he did what the girl said, pulling off the offending boots and jeans and stretching his length across the bed. Dean’s dick was standing up, hard and glistening, and the girl reached out a delicate hand to trace along the top of it. Sam watched uncertainly from the floor, paralyzed by the fear that if he moved, he’d rip the girl away from his brother and throw her bodily out of the room. His thoughts were spinning, confused, and he focused his thoughts on the sound of Dean’s unsteady breaths. It was the only thing that mattered.

The girl smirked at him and tossed a small cellophane wrapped packet at him. Sam caught it easily, but stared at it stupidly for several moments before his brain finally registered that it was a condom. He looked back up at the bed, irrational irritation fogging his thoughts, and saw that the girl was crouched over Dean, kissing him heatedly while she worked the condom on him with a skilled hand.

Sam crept closer, drawn by the seductive smell of his brother, kept moving until he crouched at the edge of the bed. The girl raised a finger toward him, urging him to wait, and then swung a leg over Dean in one graceful motion, sinking down on him as Dean growled his appreciation.

Fury washed over Sam in a wave and he turned, sinking down all the way to the floor and panting heavily, barely keeping himself under control. He breathed in and out harshly, each exhalation accompanied by a pleasured grunt from Dean, and it took him several moments before he was able to get himself under control enough to look back.

The girl was bent over Dean, moving almost horizontally across his prone form, and she had two fingers buried to the hilt up her own ass. Sam could see where Dean’s dick disappeared into her body, and his own dick pulsed with need, painful with its intensity. He turned away, used his teeth to rip open the condom package before slipping it on, and he heard the girl mutter, “Okay, Sam, your turn.”

“Oh, God,” Dean groaned, but his brother’s dismayed tone was not enough to keep Sam off the bed. He was crouched next to him in less time than it took to blink, and the girl reached a hand blindly behind her until Sam caught it. She continued rocking her body against Dean’s while she pulled him over the top of them both. The girl was small, and he found himself staring over the top of her head, giving him a clear view of Dean. Dean’s eyes were tightly closed, and his head was arched back, revealing the graceful curve of his neck, and Sam needed to run his tongue over the glistening sweat that was gathering there.

He started to bend down but the girl stopped him, grabbing his hand and planting it on the bed next to her, so that he straddled over the top of her, and then she reached back once more and grabbed his dick, pulling it close to her ass. Dean was bucking up almost frantically into the girl, and a low moan sent Sam surging forward, pushing against her hole until he slipped inside, rocking against her until he was buried inside.

He could feel his brother’s forceful thrusts, the girl serving to connect the both of them, and Sam began moving. A loud moan escaped when he realized he could feel his brother’s dick through her thin walls, so close they were almost touching. He concentrated on synchronizing his movements to his brother’s, so that their dicks pulsed together with each thrust while the tight heat of her surrounded him, and the sensation spiraled up until it was overwhelming, almost too much in it’s intensity. Dean’s hands were gripping her shoulders, and Sam grabbed them, gripping them tightly and pulling them away, twining their fingers together before forcing them down onto the bed above his brother’s head. Dean’s eyes shot open, wide and blown with lust. Their gazes met and locked.

Somehow Dean’s rhythm didn’t falter, his thrusts deep and frantic, one, two, three more times, and then his grip convulsed in Sam’s as he groaned, loud and deep. The sound went straight to Sam’s dick, and he felt an intense wave of pleasure crash over him, wave after wave, both of them coming together as their orgasms exploded almost simultaneously. Sam’s vision blurred, but he didn’t break their gaze, until the pleasure finally began to fade and he collapsed down, pinning the girl between them.

For a while, there was silence in the room, unbroken by anything beyond the slowly calming breaths of three people. Sam idly thought that maybe he’d never move again, and then suddenly he felt Dean struggling underneath them, so he eased out of the girl as gently as he could, and then rolled over to the side.

Dean was still struggling to get his breathing under control when the girl rolled off the bed, “Damn,” she muttered under her breath, a self-satisfied expression on her face. She refastened her top and walked over to the television, picking up a stack of bills there before calmly walking to the door. She paused, looked back and muttered, “Damn,” one more time, before she opened the door with a shake of her head and walked out.

Suddenly anxious, Sam rolled off the bed and practically ran to the bathroom to strip off the used condom and throw it into the trash. It felt like he was going to vibrate out of his skin, and he rested his hands against the sink, felt tears well up out of nowhere to drip unhindered into the basin. His heart felt tight in his chest. Everything was wrong. Like his body wasn’t his own. He turned on the water and splashed some on his face, trying to will the shakes away, but it didn’t help, and he dried himself roughly with one of the towels before moving back into the room, not sure what Dean’s reaction would be.

Dean was sitting on the side of the bed, facing away from the bathroom door, and Sam moved cautiously into the room, moving between the beds to sit facing Dean. Dean had stripped off the condom, but had made no move to cover himself, and he looked worse than Sam had felt earlier.

Sam sat watching him, at a loss for what to say. Tension filled the room, and when Sam couldn’t stand it anymore, he shifted to sit next to Dean on the other bed and reached out a thumb to rub gently over Dean’s cheek, hoping his apology and shame would be clear in his features. Dean looked at Sam, confusion and fatigue heavy in his gaze. “Shit, Sammy. What just happened?” Dean asked quietly, his voice completely wrecked.

Sam leaned forward until their foreheads touched. “I don’t know, Dean,” he whispered back. “I just don’t know…”

 **~fin**

 **  
**Other stories in the verse:  
[Master Post - An Issue of Consent](http://varkelton.livejournal.com/11848.html)  
[First Prequel: Torn Apart](http://varkelton.livejournal.com/12750.html)  
[Master Post - Sequel - A Question of Choice](http://varkelton.livejournal.com/29379.html)**   
**


End file.
